


Count the Stars

by Mur



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Oneshot, implied sex, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3841894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mur/pseuds/Mur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi Hajime always asserted that there were one hundred and sixty-eight stars on the ceiling of Oikawa Tooru's bedroom. Oikawa, on the other hand, always said that above him, he saw one hundred and sixty-nine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Count the Stars

Iwaizumi Hajime knew he was the only one who knew exactly how many glow-in-the-dark sticker stars were on Oikawa Tooru's ceiling. It was the longest disagreement they ever had, because Oikawa was certain that there were one hundred and sixty nine stars above him, and Iwaizumi would always assert that there were one hundred and sixty-eight.

Even in high school, laying on his best-friend-definitely-not-boyfriend's bed, he would spend hours upon hours staring up at them with his arms curled around the room's owner almost defensively as he dozed. He could smell his sweat mixed with his shampoo, a soft green-apple with a human musk that must have had some sort of pheromone, he decided, because it made Iwaizumi feel as though he could ravage the setter then and there. He wondered if it was intentional. If it was, he'd have to punch him for it later.

He could remember the summer they bought those stars as children, sheets of cartoon-like stickers that were interspersed with moons and planets, but Tooru had only been interested in the stars. They'd stood on top of boxes stacked on top of his bed, placing them on the ceiling. He had yelled at him for placing them willy-nilly, and explained that they had to follow a star chart and make constellations.

Hajime, however, decided for himself that those pictures looked silly, so he decided to draw tofu with the sticker stars instead. He'd decided it was his favorite. Tooru, on the other hand, decided that it was dumb and grumbled about it, until the taller boy stuck a star on his cheek. He remembered poking it and telling him something about how he had a star now, and stars could make whatever shapes they wanted.

Now he was certain that there were one hundred and sixty-eight stars on the ceiling, because he counted them over and over again. On any night he couldn't sleep, on lazy afternoons after their middle school practices, when stupid Tooru had practiced so hard he could barely stand, and collapsed into a nap, and Hajime found himself rubbing the kinks out of the other boy's palms, which were red and sore from serve after serve. He'd count them from the corner to the wall, from the wall to the door, and back again. Sometimes he'd start by the light, or in the dim summer light, he'd stare at the ceiling fan and watch the one shooting star they'd stuck to one of its blades spin around and around, until he dozed off himself.

In those dozes he'd occasionally be pulled back to reality, back to the bed that wasn't his own, (but by now maybe had slept on it more times than his own), back to the room beneath the sticker stars, back to Tooru's voice beside him mumbling about stupid Ushijima and Kageyama and whatever other rivals he had. He'd never mention his name until he moved to pull away or sit up and leave. It was then that Oikawa Tooru would sleepily mumble a forlorn-sounding "Iwa-chan~" and reach for him again, and his heart would melt, turning into a hot goo that sunk straight down into his stomach and dragged it down to his toes. He knew it was a sight only for his eyes, Oikawa disheveled and sleepy, his hair framing his face in the pale light of a ufo-shaped lamp just so he looked like a tired cherub or some sort of angel, eyes half-open, teasing him as he mumbled the affectionate nickname.

It had been like this forever, and he wasn't sure when it turned from childish affection to love.

"Iwa-chan~" he'd mumble, reaching towards him as an eight year-old with outstretched fingers and a sad pout.

"Iwa-chan~" the eleven year-old would whine, grabbing his wrist in a sleepy daze as he tried to leave after accidentally falling asleep during a study session.

"Iwa-chan~" he'd cry, as he reached for him after crying over their loss in the finals at middle school, determined not to let him go.

"Iwa-chan~" he'd whisper, and the wing spiker would almost obediently sit beside him on the bed, running his fingers through soft brown hair, tempted to kiss his forehead.

Somewhere down the line, it had definitely turned from childish affection to genuine love, and Hajime wondered if it meant he was weak. He'd never thought it was bad, or wrong to love someone this deeply, this wholly, but it went beyond anything he could describe to another person. If someone were to ask him just how much he loved Tooru Oikawa, he'd probably blush and shove away the question, because he genuinely didn't know how to answer it.

Maybe he loved him as much as one hundred and sixty-eight stars on some musty bedroom ceiling, whatever that meant.

"There's one hundred and sixty-nine of them, I told you, Iwa-chan..." Tooru mumbled to him late one night.

He'd come over under the premise of studying that night, but instead they'd made out against his bedroom door, and touched each other's faces while laying in bed. They'd touched a lot more too, and the setter was now nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder in a post-coital haze underneath him.

They'd both collapsed there, refusing to move or even bother to clean themselves up, instead basking in the strange haze of euphoria that washed over them both in the moment. "One hundred and sixty-nine stars above me," he whispered, and Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow.

"I've counted them, I know how many there are, stupidkawa..." he grumbled, bending forward on his elbows to nuzzle him affectionately.

"Yes, I know, but Iwa-chan, you don't realize that I'm counting the stars above me. They include you~" he sing-songed, and the wing spiker rolled off of him, tossing a pillow onto his captain's face.

Suddenly he was glad there was a pillow between them, because his face flushed red, and he wondered if his heart would ever stop racing when he was by his side.


End file.
